After The Rain
by IndigoCaress
Summary: Formerly posted under pen name Lucky Star. Revamped version. Ch 2 up! Lucy deals with Kevin, Simon remembers Morris. Warning: Abusive Kevin, Homosexual overtones in this story. Please RR, but no flames.
1. Default Chapter

After The Rain (1/?)  
  
A 7th Heaven Fan Fic by CeruleanOctober (formerly Lucky Star)  
  
Disclaimer: Not mine, just borrowed. Don't sue, just read.  
  
Warnings: Abusive Kevin. Homosexual overtones. Do not read this story if you are offended by Abusive Kevin and/or homosexuality. You have been warned, so don't waste your time or mine with flames.  
  
A/N: I hate that I have to start with an apology, but to all my readers, I must say I am sorry for leaving my fics hanging several months ago. Hopefully you'll give me another chance, and I won't disappoint…  
  
This one is a rewrite because I just feel like it needs a fresh start…  
  
After The Rain  
  
Chapter 1/?  
  
*~Lucy~*  
  
I turn off the light and just sit there in the dark for a long time. I don't want to move. I want to sit here until morning, and maybe I won't move even then. Maybe I'll just sit here until I die.  
  
"Lucy!" Ruthie's fist raps the door. "I gotta go!"  
  
I sigh. And I take a deep breath, force myself up. "Just a minute."  
  
"What are you doing in there? In the dark?" Ruthie demands.  
  
"Nothing," I answer. I flush, for effect because there's no other reason. I close my eyes and hold on to the knob for a second or two before opening the door.  
  
I don't even look at Ruthie, I just walk past her and straight to my bed. I climb under the covers and turn my back to the room.   
  
"Luce?"  
  
"I'm tired, Ruthie. I don't feel so good. I don't want to talk, okay?"  
  
"Okay." I listen to Ruthie changing her clothes, slipping into her night gown and into her bed. She sighs deeply, probably hoping I'll turn over and talk to her after all. But I have nothing to say.  
  
It's raining and the rain beats a steady rhythm on the roof, on the window. I can see the shadow of it, illuminated by the street light out front, and for a moment before my eyes close I imagine the wall is crying because that's what it looks like.  
  
My hands rest on the curve of my stomach, and I wish I could cry. I might feel better if I could release all the pain I've got bottled up inside me. But then Ruthie would ask questions, and I wouldn't be able to lie to her. I've never been good at lying to anyone about anything.   
  
Especially Ruthie. Nobody lies to Ruthie. Nobody gets away with lying to Ruthie. Ruthie has a way about her of always knowing exactly what's going on. She seems to know what I'm doing or what I'm going to do even before I know it.   
  
I don't even know why I'm thinking about Ruthie like this. Yes, I do. I want to think about Ruthie so I don't have to think about me. Or Kevin. God knows I don't want to think about Kevin. He's probably asleep, naked in his bed, sweating in the heat. I don't want to picture the little droplets of moisture on his bare chest.  
  
Maybe the rain helped cool him off.   
  
Maybe the rain could help me cry. I slip out of bed, quiet as a mouse, trying not to disturb Ruthie. As if on cue, a snore from her assures me she is asleep. I grit my teeth and sit in the window seat, resting my forehead against the glass.  
  
I've seen movies that use rain to show crying when a character can't cry. Of course that's just an actor, not someone who really needs to cry and can't. I'm not a character in a book to be enhanced with fancy words, or a character in a movie who needs special effects to make a scene work. I'm flesh and blood and I'm in pain, so why can't I cry? I've tried, but the tears won't come. I can feel them back there, just behind my eyes, but it's like they're blocked somehow.   
  
I feel the emotion, I just can't express it.  
  
It's making me sick. I feel the bile rising, and I know I'm going to throw up. I don't want to throw up any more. My throat still hurts from earlier. My stomach muscles ache from the stress of it.   
  
I try to swallow it, but it burns all the way down and I feel it gurgling to come right back up. I make a mad dash to the bathroom, kicking a pile of Ruthie's school books on the way, and a sharp pain ricochets from my big toe all the way up to my knee. I stumble the rest of the way, and barely make it to the toilet in time.  
  
*~Simon~*  
  
I hate rain.   
  
I hate how it sounds thumping against the windows.   
  
I wish the rain would stop.   
  
Rain makes me think of Morris.   
  
I don't like to think of Morris. Thinking about Morris makes my heart ache. I miss him. I wish to God he had never moved away.   
  
But that's really quite typical of my life. Nothing good ever lasts. Like Robert Frost's brilliant poem, "Nothing Gold Can Stay". That should be my anthem, that poem:  
  
Nature's first green is gold,   
  
Her hardest hue to hold.   
  
Her early leaf's a flower;   
  
But only so an hour.   
  
Then leaf subsides to leaf.   
  
So Eden sank to grief,   
  
So dawn goes down to day.   
  
Nothing gold can stay.   
  
Eight short lines, one big statement about life and living. Or not living, as the case may be. I feel like I haven't lived since Morris left. I don't want to live since Morris left.  
  
I reach down to pat Happy between the ears. "You're probably the only one who would really miss me if I left." I whisper to her, and she sighs I response. Would she wonder where I went? Would she mope for me? Would she wonder what she did to make me go away? Would she really even know I was gone?   
  
I turn the covers back and sit up. Happy sighs again, and I know she must think I'm crazy. I should be asleep. But I can't sleep. I stand and walk to the window. Rain streaks the glass, and I tap my finger against it because the impulse to do it is too great to resist. The sky is dark, unforgiving. I imagine myself walking toward it, toward the black oblivion of nothingness that awaits out there.   
  
I can almost see Morris running through the promenade in the rain that day, the last day I saw him. We danced around like fools, earning curious looks from the few people who were out, tucked into rain coats or hovering under umbrellas.  
  
Instead of tapping the window again with my finger, I hit my head against it. I feel like crying, but only girls and sissies cry. Morris wouldn't want me to cry. I guess the rain is crying for me, like in the movies.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
End rewritten chapter 1. Please read and review, it means so much.   
  
A/N: The rain on the window and the wall is a strong image for me, beautifully illustrated in the movie That Was Then, This Is Now starring Emilio Esteves and Craig Sheffer. 


	2. Chapter 2

After The Rain (2/?)  
  
A 7th Heaven Fan Fiction by CeruleanOctober  
  
See chapter 1 for disclaimer and warnings  
  
*~Lucy~*  
  
I stay in bed most of the day. I tell Ruthie to tell Mom I'm sick. And I am. Mom rushes up to take my temperature. She fixes me some chicken noodle soup for lunch. I nibble at it, mostly just sip the broth. I don't want to put too much in my stomach, because whatever goes in has to come back out…  
  
I hear his voice, talking to someone downstairs. Probably Mom. Maybe Ruthie. I can't tell. I don't care. I keep my face turned to the wall, and hope maybe he'll go away if he comes up and sees that I am asleep. But who am I kidding? He won't just leave. Not Kevin. He won't leave until he's made me feel small and unworthy and humiliated somehow.  
  
I dread the stomping of his feet on the steps. He wants to make sure I hear him coming. If I'd thought of it sooner, I'd run into the bathroom and lock the door. But he'd just wait for me. Or guilt me into coming out.  
  
At least I know he won't try anything here. In my parent's house.   
  
I don't hate him, even though I should. Any normal person would hate him for what he's done. But my parents taught me a long time ago to love all God's children, no matter what they have done. It's not in me to hate anyone, and Kevin is not worth sacrificing everything I believe in.  
  
So I'll play the game. For now. Because I have no choice, really. But soon…  
  
"Luce." His voice ribbons into the room, filling the air and swirling around my head like some crazy fly I can't quite catch. I resist the urge to turn to him, because even after everything that has happened, I still feel drawn to him, and I know he will win eventually. I may as well get it over with now. I could pretend he woke me just now, coming into the room with his obnoxiously loud greeting.  
  
I hear him sigh. "Come on, Luce. I know you're awake." He sits down in the chair from Ruthie's desk and slides it across the floor. Anything to make more noise.   
  
I have no choice now but to roll over to face him. I slant my eyes, force a yawn, and swallow hard to push the bile back down my throat. "Kevin? What are you…"  
  
"Ruthie told me you're not feeling well." He looks…angry. Like I'm sick just to spite him.  
  
"It's probably just a bug that's going around."  
  
"Tough shit. We're going out tonight."  
  
"Kevin…" I sit up a little, supporting my back on the pillows.  
  
"I told Roxanne we would meet her for dinner and drinks."  
  
"Kevin, I can't. I'm sick. I have a headache. I need to rest."  
  
He glances at the door, as if he's checking to make sure no one is standing around listening. "No. You are going to get off your lazy ass and you are going to go out with me tonight or I will give your head a reason to hurt."  
  
I blink to try to fight the sudden urge to cry. "What do you want me to do?"  
  
"Take a shower. Tell your parents you are feeling better. And make them believe it."  
  
"I can't. Kevin…I'm…" I'm going to be sick. And there isn't time to make it to the toilet, there isn't time even to turn my head. It comes up, and spurts out all over him. I'd laugh if I wasn't already crying, if I didn't fear the crushing blow of his fist.  
  
"You will pay for that, Luce." He knocks the chair over when he stands.   
  
The rain continues to beat down on the roof and the window.  
  
*~Simon~*  
  
I've been driving around since I dropped Ruthie off at home after school. I told her to tell Mom I had to go to the library to study and find a book for a report I had to write. I'm not sure she believe me, but I knew she would tell Mom what I said.  
  
The house looks dark and ominous when I drive past it. The rain is still coming down steady and strong. I back up and sit in the street outside the house.  
  
Only one light shines, in the upstairs window I knew to be Morris' room. Only it isn't Morris' room anymore. Some young girl calls that room hers now. I can see her through the open blinds, dancing around like a maniac.   
  
I had been to his room only once.  
  
"Well, this is it," he stepped back to let me go first into the room.   
  
I stepped in and looked around. A bookcase occupied one corner, and held nothing but trophies and awards. No books. Maybe two, turned to lay flat. I wondered what they were, what they were about. What kind of books would Morris read?   
  
"It's not much, I know..."  
  
"Stop. It's fine. It's a room. I wasn't expecting the Ritz or anything."  
  
He laughed. I loved to hear him laugh. He had one of those infectious laughs, the kind that could inspire a room full of people to start laughing, even when they didn't know what was so funny.  
  
"Simon, sit down. I have to talk to you about something." I didn't like the tone of his voice. He sounded so serious, like my dad when he's about to give a long drawn out lecture.  
  
"I don't want to sit down."  
  
He shifted his eyes toward the bed. I sat, but only because he insisted. I had butterflies in my stomach and I didn't like it. The air between us held an electric charge, and I knew something big was about to happen.  
  
I thought he might kiss me, and that would be okay. But he didn't look like he was going to kiss me. He looked like he was about to throw up.  
  
Maybe he decided he didn't like me anymore, and he was going to tell me to get lost. I wasn't sure I could deal with that. I'd really prefer that he just kiss me and maybe tell me he's in love with me and he can't live without me, because that's how I felt about him.  
  
But I wasn't gay, couldn't be gay. Not just because the Bible says it's wrong. Not just because my parents said it was wrong. Because I just couldn't…But why else would I even think about Morris kissing me? Why did I want him to kiss me? Did I really want him to tell me he loved me? What if he said he couldn't live without me? Could I be gay, for him?  
  
No. I didn't want to be gay. Couldn't be gay.   
  
"Simon, I don't know how to tell you this, so I'm just going to say it."  
  
I just knew he was going to say it. He was going to say he loved me. I could see it, the way he looked at me, the softness in his eyes...   
  
"I'm moving. Next month. I'm going to Texas. My dad got transferred and...and I have to go."  
  
My stomach bottomed out. I felt sick. I felt like I could puke right then and there. I wanted to puke. Dear God, why didn't he just say he loved me? Anything but what he said. Anything but leaving. Dear God, why? Why? It was cruel and unusual punishment and I haven't done anything wrong.   
  
"No..." I whispered, a pathetic objection.  
  
"I'm sorry, Simon. I have to. I don't want to. God knows I don't want to go. I want to stay here. But I can't. I have to go with my parents."  
  
"No! It's not fair!" I felt tears sting my eyes. I wouldn't cry. Not now, not in front of him. "You're my best friend. You're my only friend. I don't want you to go."  
  
"I'll come back, after I graduate. I'll be eighteen then."  
  
"But that's still two years away."  
  
"I know. But...I have to go with them, Simon."  
  
I wanted to scream and cry and stomp my feet at the injustice of it all. And I might have done at least the crying part if he hadn't kissed me. Just like that, before I could think, he was there, sitting on the bed beside me with his fingers in my hair, his lips pressed to mine.  
  
I never thought my first kiss would be another guy. But I opened my mouth to him, and sighed a little sigh of surrender. I wanted him to do more than just kiss me and comb my hair with his fingers.   
  
"Morris..." I whisper and the screech of tires on wet pavement jars me back to reality.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
End chapter 2. I'm slicing and dicing the original version, making changes, adding little details, dropping some unnecessary stuff…So please R/R. It means so much. 


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